


Ghost

by eerian_sadow



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Community: transficsation, M/M, Post Series, Sticky Sex, canon character death, canon character resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-28
Updated: 2012-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-04 21:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Happy endings and second chances are just for fairy tales and romance movies, right?  Maybe not…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> written for [](http://transficsation.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://transficsation.livejournal.com/)**transficsation** ‘s “Star Crossed Lovers” challenge.

Title: Ghost  
Universe: G1, AU  
Rating: M  
Characters/Pairing: Jazz/Optimus Prime  
Content Advisory: angst, mentions of canon character death, sticky, oral  
Summary: Happy endings and second chances are just for fairy tales and romance movies, right? Maybe not…  
Notes: written for [](http://transficsation.livejournal.com/profile)[**transficsation**](http://transficsation.livejournal.com/)‘s “Star Crossed Lovers” challenge.

 

  
Sometime, during the darkest moment of the hate plague with Mirage’s hand wrapped around his wrist as they ran from a legion of infected neutrals and his systems trying desperately to beat back the virus, Jazz heard Optimus Prime’s voice and knew he had finally gone mad.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

_“And this is Jazz, recently promoted head of Special Operations and the best saboteur that I have ever had the displeasure of working with.”_

_Jazz ignored Prowl and focused his attention on the young Prime in front of him. The mech was tall and his frame spoke of strength. His face, however, betrayed him. Hope and compassion were obvious on his features, core personality aspects that hadn’t had time for the war to force them out of the young mech’s processor._

_The saboteur grinned irreverently at the Prime. “We’ll have to get you a mask, boss. No ‘Con is ever going to take that factory-fresh face seriously.”_

_Rather than looking scandalized as Jazz expected, or even getting huffy the way one of the senate’s tamed turbo-hounds would have, Optimus returned the grin. “I suppose that you would know, hiding half your face yourself.”_

_Jazz’s grin widened as some of the other mechs around them giggled. Jazz was easily twice the age of anyone else in the room, and the Prime had just called him a new-spark. “Oh, I like you, Optimus. I hope you always give as good as you get.”_

_“I try,” the Prime replied._

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Energon splattered across black and white plating as the cube fell to the floor. Jazz’s hand hung in mid-air, fingers slack, as his processor struggled to process the input his optics were giving it.

Optimus stood in his doorway, one hand extended as if he were unsure of how he was supposed to handle this situation. His mask was retracted, and for the first time the saboteur could remember his face was etched with the evidence of his age and the worries of his life. “Jazz, I--”

“Get out,” the saboteur hissed. He wasn’t real. Couldn’t be real. Not after… everything. “Get OUT!!”

The Prime’s face fell further. “I’m sorry, Jazz.”

Jazz didn’t move, except to lower his hand to his side. “GET. OUT.”

Optimus turned to go, but the black and white mech’s keen hearing didn’t miss the whisper as the door closed behind the taller mech.

“I love you.”

When he was sure that Optimus was gone, Jazz dropped to the floor and wept.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

_“Hold on, Jazz.” Optimus’ hand was clamped tightly over the damaged energon line in Jazz’s torso, holding in as much of the vital fluid as possible. “The rescue team is coming.”_

_“For you, sure.” The saboteur’s ventilation systems sputtered and died, wracking the injured mech’s body with pained tremors. “I’m just spare parts now and we both know it.”_

_“You’re not. You aren’t spare parts until you stop functioning.”_

_“You always have been such an optimist, boss.” Jazz grinned, but it was weak and lacked his usual fire. “Might be… what I like best about you.”_

_Optimus smiled back, equally weakly. “You always make it easy.”_

_“Keep it up, boss. Keep me going, just a little while longer…”_

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It wasn’t until he heard other mechs talking about him, that he realized the specter of Optimus might not be as imagined or ghostly as he thought. And still, he couldn’t bring himself to seek out his resurrected lover. He couldn’t set himself up for the additional hurt it would bring if he was right all along and he had finally gone out of his mind.

Primus knew, he’d been given enough reasons for it to happen over the years.

Jazz’s reluctance, however, did not deter the Prime. Optimus walked into the saboteur’s office without hesitation, closing the door and giving them some privacy. “Whatever I’ve done to make you so angry, I am sorry for. I never wanted you to hurt like this.”

For a moment, the saboteur entertained the idea of ignoring the other mech. “You _died_ , Optimus. That’s not exactly something you can just say you’re sorry for.”

“I’m… I know.” The red and blue mech looked down at the floor, guilt coloring his voice.

“You _died_ ,” Jazz repeated. “Out there, on Earth while I was on the moon and I couldn’t even say goodbye to you! I didn’t even know until after it was all over! No one told me, until after Rodimus and the others had gone back to Earth. You were already dead and buried in that space mausoleum before I realized I had lost the chance to say goodbye.”

Optimus made a pained noise as Jazz turned away from him. He was angry, and he still couldn’t let himself believe that this mech was real, but he couldn’t let Optimus see him break down either. He buried his face in his hands, trying to control his body as it trembled with pent-up grief.

“And then I didn’t have time to mourn,” the saboteur continued. “No one even acknowledged that I was in pain, or that someone dear to me was gone. They made me keep going, like I’d never even had you to love.”

Optimus said nothing, but Jazz didn’t miss the heavy tread of his feet across the floor. Heavy arms wrapped around him, pulling him close to a broad chest and Jazz almost believed that it was real and not just another imaging from his grief-stricken processor.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

_The Iacon base was quiet when there were no battles to be fought. If he didn’t know better, Optimus would think the place deserted without the frantic animation of combat preparation._

_“Energon treat for your thoughts, boss?”_

_The Prime smiled at the interruption to his thoughts. Jazz was comfortable to be around, having also come from a working class background, and Optimus enjoyed his company. “You don’t have an energon treat, Jazz.”_

_“Who says I don’t?” The black and white mech’s tone was playful._

_“I do, because if you did, you would have already shared them.”_

_“Ruin all my perfectly good planning, why don’t you?” Jazz pouted, exaggerating the action as he leaned against the wall next to the Prime. Optimus gave him a disbelieving look, and the saboteur’s expression brightened into his usual grin._

_The larger mech mirrored it when the saboteur pulled two energon treats from his subspace. “Last two I’ve got. Been saving them for something special.”_

_“This is hardly special,” Optimus replied._

_“You’re always special.”_

_Both mechs were silent for a long moment after Jazz’s words. Then, Optimus leaned down and kissed him._

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

**In his dream, and he knew it was a dream because he felt too good for it to be real, he was warm. He was nestled in the soft bed that Optimus had favored on Earth and wrapped in strong arms. The Matrix of Leadership pulsed against his back plates, just as it always did when they’d fallen into recharge after they made love.**

**He wanted this moment to last forever, to just give himself over to the comfort and warmth the dream promised him. Instead, his processor forced him to focus on bleak reality.**

**“You’re dead,” Jazz whispered softly, voice pained.**

**“I’m not,” Optimus replied, squeezing him more tightly. “Please, see me as I am, Jazz.”**

Slowly, Jazz’s optics flickered on and he looked at the mech across the room. “Optimus…”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

_Optimus’ hands traced their way down Jazz’s windshield and to his abdominal plating. He teased the sensors there just enough to make the saboteur squirm, before moving lower and taking Jazz’s cord in one hand and stroking it from tip to base._

_“Optimus…” the saboteur’s buck was stopped by the Prime’s free hand pressing him back down to the berth. “Please, Optimus, more.”_

_The red and blue mech resisted the urge to tease at Jazz’s vague demand. Instead, he retracted his mask and bent his head down. Jazz hissed in a draught of air as Optimus’ glossa laved the tip of the smaller mech’s cord. Encouraged by the noise, the Prime took Jazz’s length into his mouth and sucked._

_He pressed he saboteur back down against the berth again as Jazz attempted to thrust into his mouth. “Primus, Optimus! Please!”_

_Encouraged by the other mech’s begging, Optimus pulled back off the cord slowly. He paid special attention to the sensor nodes he could feel along the shaft, stimulating them with lip components and glossa as he passed them. When he reached the tip, he slid his mouth back down, deliberately stimulating the sensors again._

_“Frag, Optimus, stop teasing me.”_

_The Prime drew back off the cord in another deliberately slow motion and let it fall into his waiting hand. He stroked it gently as he smiled wickedly at his lover. “But I love it when you beg.”_

_Jazz whimpered at the words. “Optimus, please. _Please!_ Just frag me already!”_

_Optimus made a thoughtful noise as he stroked the cord a few more times before releasing it altogether. The saboteur whimpered again at the lack of stimulation, but didn’t protest as the larger mech moved back up the line of his body so that his lips could meet Jazz’s in a searing kiss._

_As they kissed, the Prime took his own cord in hand and lined it up with the saboteur’s interface port. He pulled back as he slid in, watching the ecstasy spread across Jazz’s faceplates as he was stretched and filled. The saboteur, wound up tightly from their earlier foreplay, overloaded around him as Optimus reached the end of his thrust._

_Ever careful of how he could damage the other mech, he held still until Jazz’s components relaxed around him again._

_“Love you, Optimus,” the saboteur whispered, through his haze of pleasure._

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“You’re really here.” Jazz ran trembling fingers down Optimus’ face plates. “I’m not crazy?”

The Prime reached up, cupping the saboteur’s hand in his own. “No, Jazz. I’m here. I’m really here.”

Jazz made a choked sound and collapsed against the larger mech’s chest plates. Optimus wrapped his arms around the smaller mech as the saboteur trembled against him.

“Perceptor, he… he showed me when you went offline. I saw you… and then I couldn’t believe.” Black fingers dug into red plating, grasping for reassurance and comfort. “How could I believe you were real, when I’d watched you die?”

Optimus held him close, trying to reassure Jazz with presence as well as words. “Sometimes, I still have trouble believing it, myself. I was deactivated. I remember being in the Well, surrounded by friends who had gone on before me. I remember being at peace, finally. It still seems unreal to have been revived--truly revived--by that Quintesson.”

“I’m sorry.” Jazz’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You shouldn’t have had to come back, especially not to this.”

“Do not apologize for your grief. I would have done the same, if it had been you who passed first.” The Prime tipped his lover’s face up so that their optics could meet. “Right now, I am glad that I had you to come back to.”

Jazz stared into the larger mech’s optics for a long moment, seeing the worry and weariness that had been left by Optimus’ death and resurrection. He seemed so very much older than he had before. But below that, he could also see the spark of hope and optimism that had won him over so long ago.

And most importantly, he could see love.

“Don’t leave me again, Optimus. Please.”

“No, never. Next time, we go together.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

_Jazz looked at the box in his hands with a smile. It was a silly old tradition, so old that he couldn’t remember where it had come from in fact, but he thought it was charming. He just hoped Optimus wouldn’t think it was ridiculous._

“What have you found?” the Prime asked, stepping through the door of their shared quarters.

“Not found, made.” He opened the box and displayed the two gold bands, almost wide enough to be gauntlets, to his lover. Once he knew Optimus had gotten a good look at them, he continued. “I know they aren’t much of a proposal gift, but I was hoping you would consider me anyway.”

“Proposal?”

“I was hoping that we could bond. I love you.”

“Oh, Jazz.” The Prime’s replay was soft and almost wistful. “I want to say yes.”

“Then say yes. Please, say yes.”

“Ask me again, when the war is over and I know that I won’t leave you behind to live a half-life without me.”

Jazz did his best not to let his hurt show as he closed the box and nodded. “Sure, boss. When the war‘s over.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

They lay in Jazz’s berth, cushioned with the soft foam Optimus was so fond of and curled in each other’s arms. The Matrix’s energies tingled faintly across Jazz’s chest plates as it always did after they had made love.

It was perfect. Or as close to perfect as they could come right now.

“Jazz?” The Prime’s voice was a soft rumble in the darkness.

“Yeah?” The saboteur looked up, meeting his lover’s optics.

“I know the war isn’t over, but I would like to accept your proposal.” Optimus’ voice was shy in a way Jazz could never remember hearing before. “If the offer still stands, that is. I love you.”

“Yes.” For the first time in years, Jazz felt true happiness well up in his spark. “Yes, the offer stands. I love you, too.”  



End file.
